


What Is Past

by universe



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode Related, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Love, Love Triangles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 05:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universe/pseuds/universe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I'm Anna Sheridan... John's wife.</i> What if Anna hadn't been a Shadow agent? (AU after <i>Shadow Dancing</i>, vague spoilers up to <i>Racing Mars</i>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the 2013 [scifibigbang](http://scifibigbang.dreamwidth.org/)! My artist is gryphon2k who made a wonderful cover and awesome chapter banners for this story right [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/934619) (A03) / [here](http://gryphon2k.livejournal.com/264140.html) (LJ), so go check those out in full-size immediately!
> 
>   
> 

  
  


_Humans have a phrase: What is past is prologue._

 

The elation after a battle won had yet to wear off, and the entire station was in high spirits. Him most of all, perhaps, and the reason for that wasn’t even that they had driven away the Shadows this once. No, the joy of the victory had been dampened by the losses they had taken, the people that had died. But there was something else to look forward to, or rather _someone_ else, Sheridan thought with a grin. How he had gotten himself into that particular situation, he’d never know, but he planned on making the most of it.

He would sleep, and she would watch. Sheridan would be lying if he said he understood the ritual beyond the basic logistics, but it was obviously important to Delenn, which made it important to him now, too. Not to mention that there was nothing better than spending some time with the woman he loved. And he did love her. He hadn’t said the words yet, not directly, but he loved her, and he was fairly certain she loved him, too.

The thought added a spring to his step that he hadn’t felt since his early months with Anna, and for the first time, he smiled at the memory instead of trying not to succumb to grief. Sure, there were still days when he missed her as much as he ever had, as much as the first few weeks after the reality of her death had sunken in, but those days were few and far between now.

Walking from Medlab to his quarters didn’t take long on a slow day, and today he was anything but slow, trying not to appear in _too_ much of a rush to turn in, while at the same time trying to force down the slight nervousness that had settled in the pit of his stomach. What if Delenn didn’t like what she saw? What if she decided she no longer wanted to continue on this path with him? He flexed his hands, then scolded himself silently. What would happen, would happen, and there was nothing he could do to stop it anyway.

The door to his quarters opened and revealed Delenn sitting on his couch, still going over a file despite the late hour. Whatever anxiety he had still harboured fell off him at the sight of her, looking completely at home in his quarters. Looking as if she had never belonged anywhere else.

She abandoned her file and the couch, covering the distance between them with three short strides. And then she was in front of him, smiling that smile that he knew now was only for him, and he hadn’t kissed her in far too long. She all but melted into him, arms going around his neck just like they had done on the White Star, and tugging him as close as physically possible. For a moment, he considered trying to push this, see how much he could get away with before she stopped him, but then Delenn did something with her tongue, a quick swipe against the roof of his mouth, and he was lost. Lost in the sensation of holding her in his arms just the way he had wanted to for so long it felt like he’d wanted it forever.

There was no need to rush anything, he thought long after she had released his mouth and once he was able to think again, no need at all. They had all the time in the world.

 

_Minbari also have a phrase: What is past is also sometimes future._

 

John had been more difficult to put to bed than a young child would be, or so Delenn imagined fondly. At first he had kept asking her questions and offering her food and drink—even the other half of his bed, in a moment of weakness, and oh, how she had wanted to take him up on that offer—, then he had been unable to stay still, shifting from one side to the other, and eventually, he had just looked at her, as though he was afraid she would disappear come morning and was learning the lines of her face just in case.

After a while, though, the torments of the last few days had caught up with him, and his eyes had fallen shut, and as his breathing had evened out, his soul had been revealed. It had told her everything she already knew, and so much more.

It was impossible to put into words what she saw on his face during that night. It was no different from what she had seen aboard the White Star en route to Ganymede, only transformed by his knowledge of her intent. He knew she was watching, and why, and even in sleep, she could tell he felt her presence.

Hours passed, or maybe just minutes, Delenn’s mind clear of everything but John’s face, with the occasional dream of the future sneaking in. When she caught herself thinking about the rituals that would follow—in particular about the shan’fal—for what must have been the third of fourth time, she chided herself inwardly for her lack of discipline and decided a break was in order. She turned around at the doors separating the bedroom from the rest of John’s quarters to catch one last look at his face for the next while, and then made her way into the living area.

Everything here was his, but she hoped with all her heart that one day, that would change; that one day, her things would mingle with his in their shared quarters. Two nights were enough, she was already certain about her choice, but they would go through the rituals one by one. If she was to take a Human as a mate, this would have to be done right. Even if her body and maybe her mind also were no longer fully Minbari, the traditions still mattered to her, just like John’s traditions meant something to him.

She let her fingers glide over the smooth surface of the snow globe that he had shown her earlier, then picked it up and turned it around, enjoying once again the sight of the little white specks floating in the liquid. This simple trinket had shown them yet another thing they had in common, even coming from completely different worlds. But snow looked more or less the same on any planet she had seen so far, and while Minbar was colder than Earth, from this day on, falling snow would always remind her more of John than of home.

A noise startled her out of her thoughts. For a split second, she could not place the sound of the door opening, was too distracted by the sudden feeling of familiarity, of having lived this moment before. And then she saw a woman enter the room, a woman she had never seen before, but she instinctively knew that this woman could only be a bearer of bad news.

“Hello. You must be Delenn. I am Anna Sheridan. John’s wife.”

Her mind did not believe yet what she was hearing, but her heart already knew and turned cold at the sight of John’s dead wife standing in front of her, and in the moment it took her mind to catch up, she saw her own future shatter just as surely as the snow globe shattered on the floor.


	2. Chapter One

  
  


‘Hell’ would be too tame a description for the situation Sheridan found himself in. His wife, believed dead for so long, was alive and well, just when he had finally allowed himself to go on, to put the past behind him, to give Delenn and himself a chance together.

Of course, there was always the possibility that she was only pretending to be Anna, that she was actually a clone, a spy, or whatever else the Shadows might have come up with. That was why she was being examined thoroughly in Medlab while Sheridan paced back and forth outside. It _was_ Anna, he was sure of it. The second he’d laid eyes on her, he had known. So he wasn’t surprised when Stephen told him exactly that a while later.

“Is there anything else?” he asked, not sure what he was hoping the answer would be.

“No, nothing so far. But it never hurts to run a few more tests, if that’s what you want me to do.”

“Yes. If this is a trick, I’m going to take it out of somebody’s hide.” Franklin wore that ever-patient look of his, and Sheridan was glad he didn’t have to impress on him the gravity of the situation. “But if it’s not, and that really is Anna… I have to know, Stephen.”

Then he left Medlab with quick strides and headed towards Delenn’s quarters. There was nothing he could do until Franklin had run every test at his disposal, and he had to talk to Delenn. He should have gone to see her earlier, shouldn’t even have let her leave his quarters during the night. She’d had every right to be there, and sneaking out in the middle of the night was not something either of them thought she’d ever have to do.

The closer he got to Green 2, the more apprehensive he felt, but no matter what, he would not stop now. He had to see her and make sure she was alright. He rang and waited, expecting to be admitted without a problem. She had never turned him away. But seconds passed, then a minute, with nothing happening, and he rang again. The door opened finally, but instead of Delenn, it was Lennier in front of him, looking at him with that ever stoic expression that gave nothing away.

“Yes?”

“I need to speak to Delenn.”

Sheridan knew he was being rude, but there was a time for niceties, and it certainly wasn’t now.

“The Ambassador is busy, Captain.”

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a flash of anger in the young Minbari’s eyes for a second. As things were, he wouldn’t even blame Lennier for the sentiment; he knew they both cared for Delenn very much and would do anything in their power to keep people from hurting her. Nonetheless, he couldn’t leave, not without speaking to her.

“Please, Lennier. I really need to talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.”

“She is fine,” Lennier said, and Sheridan thought he might have to bring out the heavy artillery, but then the Minbari stepped aside and allowed him entry.

“Delenn told me she does not wish to speak with anyone,” he added under his breath. “But since you are not just ‘anyone’, I believe I can admit you without dishonouring my promise.”

He was splitting the hair very thinly, and they both knew it. But if necessary, Sheridan would not hesitate to tell Delenn he hadn’t given Lennier a choice. Looking around the living area, he didn’t see her, so he went right through to her bedroom. He’d never been in there, but he had imagined; and in his fantasies, he had always been incredibly turned on (and only the slightest bit nervous), and he had always had Delenn in his arms, and it had always been perfect.

With a sigh, he pushed the sliding doors apart just enough to step through them. Delenn was sitting with her back toward him on the floor, staring at a candle, the rest of the room shrouded in darkness. He whispered her name, yet she did not move, did not acknowledge his presence at all. Sitting down next to her, he repeated it and finally reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, realising only now how much he had been craving physical contact. But she jerked away from him as if burnt, and his heart sank.

“Please, talk to me.”

Sheridan was begging, but he didn’t care. Anything to get her to look at him. And eventually, she did, not being able to refuse him.

“John.”

His name out of her mouth sounded like a prayer. It sounded like resignation.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Delenn didn’t resist when he pulled her close, nor when his hands settled around her waist and he buried his nose in her hair, breathing her in. She smelled like the station gardens in full bloom, like a warm summer rain and, inexplicably, like home.

Suddenly, as though she had remembered who he was and what she was doing, she tensed again and pulled out of his embrace. She turned her face away from him, but he was sure he had seen tears there.

“You should not be here,” Delenn said quietly once she had regained her composure, and the walls were going up so quickly he could watch them. Sheridan took her hand, refused to let go. She was wrong; this was exactly where he should be. With her, at her side. Forever. It had felt so right to kiss her on the White Star, it had felt right falling asleep while she was watching him, and this here felt right, too, holding her hand in the darkness of her quarters.

“You should be with your wife.”

With just six words, she shattered the feeling of peace that always settled on him in her presence. Suddenly, he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her out of this stupor, wanted to kiss her until they both could no longer breathe. He settled for holding on to her hand more tightly, drawing her close again, but Delenn resisted.

“We’ll get through this.”

She was shaking her head, not looking at him, eyes fixed somewhere near his feet. He hadn’t seen her so withdrawn since the beginning of their (at the time only professional) relationship, if ever, and it hurt to see her like this.

“You should go,” she breathed. He was about to protest when his link chimed. He automatically raised his hand to his mouth while at the same time keeping hold of Delenn.

“Captain, I have the test results on your wife.”

He felt more than heard Delenn suck in a breath, and before he knew what was happening, she had snatched her hand away and had retreated fully behind her best ambassadorial façade.

“Alright, I’ll be right there,” he spoke into his link. He had to go, but he’d be back. There was no way he’d just let Delenn draw away from him so easily. Giving her what he hoped was an encouraging look, he left her quarters.

 

\-----

 

Anna looked so lost, sitting on that stretcher, and Sheridan’s heart did something funny at the sight of her, too. So far, he hadn’t really allowed himself to think about any of it, was still not sure he was ready to consider the ramifications that would arise if she really was his Anna. A second later, he scolded himself for even thinking the word ‘ramifications’. She was his wife, for god’s sake! And he had missed her so much…

He made himself take a deep breath, calm his mind, and then stepped into Medlab.

Franklin caught up with him before he even made it to Anna and dragged him aside for a moment.

“Is it Anna? Is it really her?”

The eyes that turned his way were worried but clear, and in that moment, Sheridan knew the answer he would be getting before Stephen even opened his mouth.

“Yes, it’s her.”

There was nothing more that needed to be said, nothing more that _could_ be said to make this situation any easier. But when he looked back at Anna, he realised he’d never seen her so small, so vulnerable. He loved her still, he always would, and he was at her side in an instant.

“I’m sorry, Anna.” He seemed to be doing nothing but apologising today, as if he himself had somehow caused this situation. “I’m sorry we had to poke and prod you like that. But we had to be sure it was really you.”

“Really me?” she echoed, with a lot of confusion and yet no hint of anger in her voice.

He proceeded to tell her about the Shadows, only bits and pieces so far, but enough to bewilder her even more. And enough to delay the questions that really mattered. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. So when she asked him in a soft voice when she could be released, he took her hand and guided her to his quarters.

In the first few weeks after his arrival here on the station, he had dreamt of this moment so often, had dreamt that she was still there, or would suddenly, miraculously reappear, and that he would show her around, would share with her the wonder of this place. She would have loved it. But the reality looked so different from what his dreams back then had been. Instead of being filled with joy at their reunion, he felt as if somebody was tearing him in half.

Once he had ushered her through his door, Anna stopped short, and he almost ran into her. He managed to catch himself in time, but he still came close enough to notice all the little things he thought he had long forgotten—the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder, the smell of her hair, the startled gasp that escaped her at the closeness.

She moved away from him then, and for a second, it hurt, but then he remembered that she hadn’t been with him all this time.

“Let’s sit down,” he suggested when he was able to speak again, and guided her to the couch. “Then you can tell me what happened to you.”

 

\-----

 

Delenn tried to calm the raging storm in her heart to something more bearable. It felt like she would be consumed by it any minute, and she could not allow that to happen. Yet the candle in front of her, almost burned down now, had not helped in the slightest, and perhaps for the first time in her life, her Religious Caste training was failing her. There was no ritual for this, no precedent; she had not been taught how to deal with a situation like the one she was in.

John had left her hours ago, was even now with his wife. The mere thought made despair rise in her, a kind she had never felt before. Not even when her mother had left her, or when Dukhat had died in her arms. Not even when the chrysalis was burning her skin and ripping her body apart.

Being inside the chrysalis was the worst experience of her life, or so she had thought until now. And in a way, it still was; the physical pain so strong she could remember it even now, did not even have to make much of an effort to feel it again. But throughout the entire ordeal—and there was no other word to describe it, not even for someone who thought any sort of atonement was still too good for her—she had known she was doing it for prophecy, for her people, because the universe _wanted_ her to. No, not wanted, _needed_.

This, here, was entirely different. It hurt no less, but this was an emotional pain, a suffering of her heart that spread outward until her entire body ached with it. She had once had a long conversation with Ivanova, about their lives leading up to that point, about the suffering they both had endured, always carefully tiptoeing around secrets they could not share. Their talk was no less heartfelt for it, though. Susan had confided in her, when Delenn breached the subject of romance, that she and her heart did not speak anymore. Back then, Delenn had not understood how anyone would want that to happen to them, how Susan could allow her heart to grow cold and close herself off to love. Minbari were taught that, even during the most dire of circumstances, the heart and the soul always remained intact. That after any situation, whatever ritual was appropriate would purge one’s pain and release one’s burdens, and then a new beginning was possible. Now, though, she finally understood the young Commander. She wished desperately that her heart could leave her body, and take the pain with it, and the next moment, she scolded herself for the mere thought.

Nothing in her training had prepared her for this. But even now, the part of her that was—and always would be—entirely Minbari was taking over, letting her slow her erratic breathing and heartbeat. ‘The universe puts us in places where we can learn.’ She had not lost faith in the universe, did not think she was physically capable of such a thing. And that was what she clung to now, that belief that had been ingrained in her since birth. Delenn didn’t know what knowledge she was supposed to be taking away from this lesson the universe was teaching her, but she had faith that she would eventually find out. And that, maybe, she would come out of this situation stronger than she had been, stronger than she was now.

And maybe, she thought, maybe she and John were not meant to be together after all. Maybe _that_ was the lesson. To stop the rituals before they were concluded and the participants were joined in this life and all lives to come, it was something that happened quite often on her world. Maybe the universe had decided to intervene in order to remind her of her duties to her people. Those would always come first, second and last.

Having reaffirmed herself of her place in the universe had not done much for her fragile state, though, and the second she laid down to sleep, she was overcome by images of John, lying in his own bed, asleep but smiling. She had dared hope, during the watching, that he was smiling because he was dreaming of her.

Tears sprung forth, and Delenn did nothing to stop them this time. She did not wipe them away, either, not after five minutes, nor after an hour. And she did not sleep at all.

 

\-----

 

Sheridan had ordered something to eat, he had brewed tea, and he had waited patiently until Anna had nibbled on the former and finished the latter to ask the question. His mother would be proud.

“Where _were_ you, Anna? I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead!”

He hadn’t meant to make it sound like an accusation, but it came out as one anyway, and Anna visibly flinched. He thought about apologising again, but she recovered quickly and, shoulders squared, told him everything.

She told him about how they had landed on Z’ha’dum, and how everything had been wonderful and exciting at first. Until they had found something. Or rather, someone. They weren’t sure at the time. But Dr. Chang, the mission leader, had recognised the beings for what they were: at the very least a possible threat. And once his misgivings had been confirmed—a crew member killed in cold blood—, he’d wasted no time and had tried to cram as many people as possible into the life pods of the Icarus. There were only four pods, and by the time they had reached them, there were only five of them left, and Chang had all but ordered them to leave him behind. They had argued, of course, but he had simply run back off into the direction of the cave, leaving them no choice but to obey his final request.

How long she’d drifted in space, she didn’t know, but eventually, she was picked up by a race of aliens she had never seen or head of before.

“They were tall, they were so tall. And they looked like none of the other races we’d seen before. They had two heads—I think they were heads. They had some sort of technological unit strapped to their chest, but I’ve never seen anything like it at IPX or on any of our expeditions.”

She continued to describe them and what she had learned of their culture and technology. The aliens had brought her to their home world, had interrogated her. Anna’s voice caught at the word, and her faraway look told him everything he needed to know. He’d seen it often enough in fellow soldiers, that look, the one that meant that they would never be quite whole again. And Stephen had mentioned scars, both recent and older, all over her back and legs. For a few seconds, rage threatened to overwhelm him, but the gasp that had lodged itself in her throat made him focus on her. He’d have enough time later to let out the searing anger he felt at the thought of anyone so much as touching his wife, let alone hurting her like these aliens obviously had.

“I’m still not sure what they even wanted from me, but they asked me all those questions about our military, and about the military of other races. They didn’t seem like they wanted to attack anyone, though…” She was waiting for him to interrupt, to explain to her why somebody would want that kind of information if they weren’t planning an attack, but he kept silent, encouraging her with a hand on her arm to go on.

“Later, once they were done with me, I was transported to one of their bigger worlds to work. It was a lousy planet, no colour anywhere. It was all just grey. Grey and lifeless. We were never kept in one place for long, always moved from one city to the next. One week, I was working with some sort of cloth, the next I was handling something that looked like weapon components.”

Sheridan did interrupt her then, if only with a single word: “We?”

“Yes. There were other people there. Other Humans. Not all from Earth; most were actually from the outer colonies. People who had been lost, like me, or sold from race to race, planet to planet. Even a group of travellers whose ship had malfunctioned and who’d thought the aliens would save them.”

The last line was said with so much cynicism Sheridan recoiled inwardly, and again the anger rose inside him. This time, Anna noticed, and put her hand on his, mustering up a smile.

“It’s okay, John. I’m here now.”

She told him then about her life on the alien world, about the work she’d had to do, about the escape attempts of some of the prisoners, both Human and not, and how they had always ended in death. But then, there had been a change in the routine. Instead of being carted to a new location every few days, a small group surrounding her—three Humans, a Drazi, a Faranian, and two adolescent Narn—had been brought to a facility obviously intended for trade, where they were to sell a number of products, some of which they had even helped manufacture, but most of which they had never seen before. They’d known right away that this would be the only opportunity they would get to escape. And they had tried, that fourth night, when the first burst of traders had already left. Their plan had been to stow away in the cargo hold of a smuggling ship, the kind piloted only by an individual with no additional crew. But it had never come that far. They had been discovered, and in the end, she and the Faranian had been the only one able to escape, not on a smuggling ship, but instead on a small transport headed for Centauri Prime.

Up until that point of the story, Anna had been more or less calm, varying degrees of bitterness and pain lacing her voice and clouding her eyes, but now her breathing turned shallow, and tears began to well and spill over. She clung to Sheridan’s hand, taking comfort in his presence, in the strength he offered that she lacked. He told her to breathe, whispered things to her that meant nothing and still said so much, if she’d been able to listen. She calmed down after a while, and even though he suggested they continue the story another time, she shook her head. The quiet resolve had returned to her eyes, Sheridan noticed with relief and more than a little pride. Yes, this was his Anna; she hadn’t changed, not where it mattered.

“I stayed on Centauri Prime a while to work, until I had enough money to come here and find you.”

“But why didn’t you contact me from there? And how did you even know I would be here?”

A teary laugh escaped her at that, the sound so familiar it made him want to weep, too.

“I didn’t even know where you were, at first. And I was scared that they’d still be looking for me, that they’d find me and take me back. But then I saw your face on a vid screen one day. I have no idea what they were saying, it was all in Centauri, but I saw you, and saw that you were here now. It took me everything I had in me not to buy a ticket on the first transport out, but I couldn’t risk it. And I figured, a few more weeks wouldn’t make a difference either, not once I found out how long I had been gone…”

She trailed off as her entire body sagged into his, any remaining energy having left her, and tears started running down her face again. Sheridan was helpless. He had missed her so much, and she had endured so many horrible things. He laid her down on the couch gently, her head in his lap, and relearned the lines of her face with his hands.

 

\-----

 

He watched over Anna during the night, watched her sleep off some of the exhaustion. When she turned, a frown marring her features, he whispered her name and took her hand in his, and in that moment, he knew he could not leave her, would not just abandon her now that she had finally come back to him.

 

\-----

 

For Delenn, the next few days passed in a blur. She met with fellow ambassadors and discussed strategy in the War Council during the day, even managing to set aside her pain for hours at a time. But it was at night that the pain came back, and it hurt more every time. She did not eat, she barely slept, restless meditation the only refuge she was able to find. She knew this was not healthy, that both Lennier and Dr. Franklin were worried, but her grief was so all-encompassing that she could not fathom a way out of it.

It did not help that she still saw John almost every day. He was always present during War Council meetings, and had she not tried so hard to never meet his eyes, she may have wondered why he, too, looked more exhausted every day, despite having his wife back in his life. As it were, she made every attempt not to be in the same room as him for longer than strictly necessary, and she certainly made it a point to never be _alone_ with him. Whenever they did speak, she fixed her glance somewhere over his right shoulder, or on his Earth Force insignia, the only part of his old uniform that was still left. It reminded her that he was not her kind, that he was not meant for her, and somehow, that thought helped her keep her composure while he was around.

She noticed, of course, how distant they were, and that hurt, too. She could not remember a time before when there had ever been a chasm between them. Yes, they’d had disagreements, political and personal, and they had even fought, on occasion, but there had always been that undercurrent of trust, of friendship, and later of love. Now, none of that was there anymore. In its place, she found only emptiness.

Delenn took to having the less important meetings in her own quarters, both because she was beginning to feel the effects the ritual purging had on her body, and because it minimised the risk of running into John—and perhaps even his wife. She had no doubt Anna Sheridan was a wonderful woman; she _had_ to be, if John had married her, and under different circumstances, she would have delighted in the opportunity to meet somebody who meant as much to John as Anna obviously did, but Delenn also knew she was nowhere near ready to face the wife of the man she loved more than her own life.

Meeting him, even alone, could not be avoided forever, she knew this much. And knowing John, she should have expected him to push the issue by cornering her one day, after another War Council session. But she had still been going over the most recent reports in her mind, when she suddenly found herself trapped in a transport tube with him. She hated that thought the second it entered her mind; just a few days ago, she would have revelled in having just a few minutes to themselves, would not have thought of it as a trap, but rather an opportunity.

“Delenn, we need to talk,” he said, in that deep, smooth voice that had from the beginning sent shivers up and down her spine, just as it did now. But she would not give in, would not show him any sign of how much he still affected her.

“I have a meeting.”

It was not technically a lie. She did have a meeting, but she was not running late yet; on the contrary, she even had a few minutes to spare. John did not have to know that, though.

“That’ll have to wait a few minutes.”

For half a second, she thought he was there to talk business, after all, but then his shoulders sagged, and he seemed to lose all that made him Captain Sheridan. He became just John, and his plea was clear as day when he said her name again.

“Delenn. Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out. Please…”

She took a calming breath, centred her thoughts, and imagined a candle burning on his shoulder. Still she could not meet his eye.

“Captain.” The word was not yet out of her mouth, and she already knew that she was taking it too far, was hurting him when he deserved no pain at all. But it was too late to take it back now. “Minbari believe that the rituals we go through when pursuing a deeper relationship are meant to help explore the feelings of the people involved. As you know, they can be stopped at any time, either by the female, or the male. Or, as it happens less frequently, by the universe itself.” She found solace in explaining the rituals to him; here she could pretend he was just another acolyte, or even a younger member of her clan. The descriptions, even if they were not in her native language, came naturally to her, and the words flew freely. “The universe does not intervene often, but when it does, it is not to be taken lightly. I do not know what my path is, now, but I do know that it does not lead me to you.”

The last words were more difficult, but they needed to be said. _He_ needed to understand that the universe had not meant for them to be together.

“Delenn—” he started again, but she turned away. Thankfully, the transport tube had arrived, and she marched out before he had a chance to stop her. She wanted to look back, wanted it so desperately she clenched her fists until her nails dug into her skin, but she kept on walking.

 

\-----

 

Three nights after she had left John standing in the tube, she finally slept through a night. In the morning, she still felt dreadful, but her eyes did not look quite so red as they had the morning before.

Two days after that, she forced herself to eat the breakfast Lennier had prepared for her, and leave not a single crumb, safe for the piece set aside for Valen. The smile on her aide’s face was more than worth the effort, and she did feel better for having eaten more than just a slice of bread.

And another week after _that_ , she sat through a whole War meeting without having to focus her breathing once. She even looked the Captain in the eye, and for the first time did not have to remind herself not to think of him as ‘John’.

With time, she kept reassuring herself, they would settle back into their old rhythm, perhaps they would even be friends again. His friendship had meant more to her than almost anything well before she had realised she loved him. With that thought in mind, she approached him after another session, when most of the others had already left and the Captain was still bent over tactical plans.

“May I speak with you for a moment?”

He looked up at her in bewilderment, clearly not expecting to see her still here. He all but jumped out of his chair.

“Yes. Yes, of course!”

“I… would like to apologise. I have not been as considerate of your feeling as you deserve. This situation cannot be easy for you, either. I am sorry.”

There, she had said it, and it felt like a giant burden was lifted off her shoulders. It was the guilt she had been carrying around for a while now. Guilt over how she had treated him, when none of this had been his fault. Still, she was not surprised by his reaction.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Delenn. I just wish you wouldn’t shut me out like that. I know things are a mess right now, but I promise you, they will get better.”

He looked at her with such honesty and hope that she could not find it in herself to contradict him. If he believed there was a way, in all likelihood he would find it. Delenn nodded, unable to speak. The voice inside her that urged her to be careful started clamouring when she saw his hand move atop hers, but she ignored it, and instead enjoyed the feeling of being so close to her friend. To John. She decided now she could not think of him as only the Captain. He had once asked her to call him by his first name, and she would honour his request, just like she would honour his friendship.

When the silence became too heavy, the moment too oppressive for her fragile balance, she extracted her hand slowly, but forced a smile onto her face so as to reassure him she was not withdrawing from him again. She thought she saw the gratitude in his eyes for a heartbeat or two.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you, actually,” John said after clearing his throat.

This was business now, she could tell from the shift in his voice, and before she knew it, they were both hunched over the latest reports from the front lines, and he was explaining to her some theory or another. It was almost like the early months after her change, when she had felt like an outsider, avoided and shunned by everyone but him. Except now, she reminded herself, he would not grin at her conspiratorially, nor would he ask her to dinner, or offer her his arm on the way out. But this was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts. She forced her attention back to the matter at hand, banishing all thoughts of Anna and what her presence meant.

They talked for what felt like hours about their tactical options, every theory of his being more outlandish than the one before, but she knew realism was not what this was about. He needed somebody to ‘bounce ideas off’, as he had once called it. And it seemed her company was still preferable to anyone else’s. The thought made warmth spread through her and flood her face, warmth she hoped John would not see.

It only became worse when, as they were moving to point towards the same section on a map projection, their hands brushed. Delenn tried not to pull hers away too quickly for fear that she might offend. Especially considering that the contact was not unwelcome. No, not unwelcome at all… And the smile he flashed her then, a little apologetic, but mostly just disarming, left every part of her tingling, and as it always had, his smile made all her worries disappear for a while.

Without being entirely aware of it, she moved closer to him just as he was leaning down, and she could already feel his breath on her face, saw his eyes close just as hers slipped shut as well.

The War Room door slid open with a soft hiss, and that was enough to startle them both away from each other. It was only the night guard whose shift was about to start, and even (or especially) together, they were familiar enough a sight not to be of interest, so he paid them no attention beyond a respectful nod. John took a deep breath; she could almost _hear_ his thoughts racing, and she knew the moment he opened his mouth, she would be lost. He would either use the fact that they almost kissed as proof there was still something between them, or he would try to rationalise it away. She was not sure which would hurt more.

No longer certain of her feelings at all, Delenn fled the room without looking back.

 

\-----

 

Sheridan watched Delenn’s retreating form, torn between wanting to run after her and being rooted to the spot.

He hadn’t meant to kiss her. He hadn’t meant to be this close to her, either. But his body remembered her warmth, his heart remembered how it felt to be so in tune with her that they knew what the other was thinking before they even said it. And his lips remembered the softness of hers.

There had never been the slightest hint of doubt in his mind that Delenn was only pushing him away to protect herself and him, to keep either of them from being hurt. Thus he wasn’t surprised by what had almost happened just now; if anything, it showed just how at odds Delenn’s words and actions these past few days had been with her feelings. And for the first time in a while, he felt like he could breathe again. The moment of buoyancy passed immediately, though, when he remembered that Anna was waiting for him in his quarters. Had been for several hours now, Sheridan realised with a startled look at the time. No matter how hard he tried, he could not fix this mess.

But he knew for certain now that, even though he still loved Anna, he also loved Delenn. And she loved him back even now. Nowhere nearer to a solution to the problem than before, he still felt a little happier, a little lighter.

There was hope yet.


	3. Chapter Two

  
  


Today was a good day. Sheridan had finished his meetings early, which was enough of a rare occurrence all on its own to merit celebration, but he also had a dinner reservation at the Fresh Air, and he would finally show Anna around the station. He tried to ignore the lump that had been forming in his stomach ever since he started planning it; he would make this day good for Anna. He would make it _great_ for her, wonderful and unforgettable. She deserved nothing less, especially after everything she’d been through.

So far, Anna had only seen the inside of Medlab and his quarters, choosing to rest before braving the crowds, as it were. And Sheridan thought his wife was also more than a little anxious to be meeting his friends—his _family_ , the side of him she had never been part of—, especially because they were also Delenn’s friends, or at the very least acquaintances. He had tried to figure out how he would feel in her situation, but had failed. All the more reason to make her feel more at ease, make her feel more at _home_ here. He stopped by a flower vendor and bought a bunch of fake roses (real ones weren’t easy to come by before they’d broken away from Earth, now it was practically impossible), and tried to calm his nerves. He hadn’t been this nervous since his first time asking her out, which was ridiculous.

Except maybe it wasn’t nearly as ridiculous as he tried to make himself believe. This wasn’t their first date, no, but it was close enough. They hadn’t seen each other in so many years; it was only logical that it would take them time to get used to each other again. Anna was sleeping in his bed while he slept on the couch. She had tried to argue when he made the suggestion, but beyond that, he knew her well enough to tell she was also grateful. He was, too; he didn’t think he could sleep next to her again so soon, not when his last night before her return had involved Delenn watching him sleep. Wherever he looked in his quarters now was Delenn, everything reminded him of that night, and of the time Ivanova had interrupted what would have been their first kiss, and of the evening they had spent together, eating his awful attempt at flarn. He tried to push those memories aside now, _had_ to, if he wanted to spare Anna more pain. And he did.

It had never been a question of whether he still loved Anna or not. He had known, even when he put his memories of her to rest, even when he opened his heart to Delenn, that he would love Anna forever. And why would he love her any _less_ if faced with the reality of her again? But he was certain now that he loved Delenn, too, and that those feelings would not go away easily. Delenn had become a part of him, as the incident the other day had proven, and the question now was if he still loved Anna enough to give up Delenn. Or if he loved Delenn too much to stay with his wife.

Simply put, Sheridan didn’t know _what_ he wanted.

It didn’t help that Anna’s story, while ringing true in pretty much all the ways, still left him a little confused. They had talked about it more these past few days, and not for a moment did he think she was lying. No, he believed every word. But then there were the words she _didn’t_ say, the weeks and months she didn’t want to talk about. And those were a mystery to him. He didn’t blame her; there was plenty _he_ had gone through during the Minbari War that he had never mentioned to her. He just couldn’t shake the feeling she was leaving out something important, something he as her husband had a right to know. He wouldn’t push her, though. She would tell him eventually.

Tonight, he would try his best to distract her from all that. It was the least he could do.

 

\-----

 

The cutlery clattered more loudly on the table than usual, and Delenn was tempted to curse in any language she knew. She did not usually give in to such petty desires, although what she had picked up from the Humans—John and Mr. Garibaldi in particular—would put most other languages she spoke to shame. It seemed they had an never-ending supply of words with which to express their moods, particularly the negative ones.

She wanted this dinner to be perfect. She had gone out of her way to ensure all ingredients were cooked just right, prepared according to ritual right down to the smallest morsel of senk’ai. Lennier had been so good to her, even more so recently, and he deserved her eternal gratitude. This meal would be a good start.

Even though just a few short weeks had passed since Anna Sheridan had arrived at Babylon 5, Delenn already felt as though she had finally put it behind her, had accepted that John was no longer hers. Only during the last two or three heartbeats right before sleep, as deep into meditation as she ever got, did she allow herself the thought that he hadn’t yet decided and the vain hope that he might end up picking her over his wife, after all. In the mornings, she always felt shame and remorse for even considering it, but no amount of time spent in silent communion with the universe could rid her of that hope. And so it would begin all over again the next night.

She had not seen John and Anna together, not since that first night, and she was unsure whether that was a good or a bad sign. Surely, if he intended to stay with her, he would begin introducing her to his friends, maybe even let her help in the fight against the Shadows, with the knowledge she had of their home world. That was the only way she allowed herself to think about Anna Sheridan at all, as a possible ally in the war. The two or three times she had allowed her thoughts to venture beyond the professional, she always ended up wondering how Anna and John were doing together, whether they were happy, whether they shared quarters, maybe even shared his be— she had caught herself there. No, Anna Sheridan was entirely off-limits in her thoughts.

As far as her and John’s overture to a kiss was concerned… She tried not to think about that at all either. Nor about the fact that she had not seen him much since then. It seemed she was no longer the only one trying to avoid being alone together, or even so much as breathing the same air outside the War Room.

That, however, could not be avoided, especially now. They were at a critical stage in the war efforts. The protection of the refugees in Sector 83 had only been the beginning. It was decided, after much convincing from both her and the command staff, that now that the Shadows had been weakened, they had to go after them, and go after them hard, as John put it when detailing the plan to the League.

This time, though, they would need _all_ the League ships. Not just those the individual governments felt they could spare, no. Every single ship, or they would have no hope at all of ending the war once and for all. The victory they had achieved against the Shadows in Sector 83 had thankfully lifted everyone’s spirits, and it seemed the League members were finally convinced they stood a chance.

Tonight, she would share a ritual meal with Lennier. And tomorrow, they were going to attack Z’ha’dum.

 

\-----

 

It was the fourth night in a row they’d eaten at a restaurant. So far, he had let Anna pick where they would eat, and she had chosen something new every time. Which was why he was now watching her dig into dessert with relish, some Centauri delicacy he couldn’t pronounce to save his life, but apparently, it was something she had wanted to try ever since her stay on Centauri Prime.

She pushed the empty bowl away and made a little sound in her throat that he still recognised after all these years.

“Good, huh?”

Her wide smile was answer enough. But then her expression changed from the easy happiness she’d been exuding all evening into a steely resolve. He’d seen that look several times now, usually whenever she was gearing herself up to meet someone new.

“John,” she started, not quite a question, but he nodded for her to continue all the same. “There is something I haven’t told you yet. Something you need to know.”

“I… figured as much,” Sheridan tried to be diplomatic without putting any undue pressure on her. Anna looked more vulnerable than he had seen her since that first night. Perhaps not even then.

She took a deep breath, swallowing whatever nerves were making it hard for her to speak, and began.

“When I was stuck on that planet… I told you there were other prisoners, didn’t I? Other Humans, too.” He nodded again, no idea what was coming. “There… was somebody else. A man. Alex.” At first, he didn’t know what she was getting at, but when she said the man’s name, voice soft and yet strained, he knew, suddenly and irrevocably. Part of him recoiled at the thought, wanted to yell and shout, wanted to be mad at her for finding someone else while he was mourning her still. It was irrational, it was stupid, it was crazy. He tried to calm that part, thought of Delenn and what they had started to build together. Anna wasn’t the only one who had moved on.

If his wife had noticed his inner turmoil, she didn’t say a word, only continued with her own story. “He had lost someone, too, like I had lost you. He’d been taken from his home, abducted by raiders who sold him until he eventually landed on the same planet as I did. He had a wife and two kids, John, but he never found out what happened to them.” Tears welled up in her eyes as they had done so many times lately, more times than Sheridan could count, and that, if nothing else, made the caveman inside him disappear.

“We… had something together. We tried to fight it at first, but after a while, when we thought we’d never get out of there anyway, we stopped pretending.” It wasn’t an excuse, or an apology. She saw no need for either. “He was killed, when I escaped. We were going to escape together, go back to our families and take it from there. But he never made it.”

What followed was a gruesome account of just how Alex had been killed, and Sheridan wondered if this was the first time Anna had talked about it all. From the sound of it, it was, and in a weird way, he was glad she was telling the story to him and no one else. He wanted to be there to help her in any way she’d let him—in all the ways he couldn’t when she was light years away, suffering not only through the loss of her home, her family, and her freedom, but also of yet another man she had come to love.

They would have to talk about this, talk about what this meant for _them_ , but now was not the time. Not when she was trying very hard not to break down.

Sheridan didn’t know why Anna had picked a public spot to tell him this part of her story; maybe because she wasn’t as likely to actually start crying here, or maybe because she felt less vulnerable than in his quarters where everything was a reminder of their time apart. Maybe a little of both, even. Whatever the reason, though, he ached to hold her, to offer the comfort she so clearly needed. But she didn’t want any of that, and part of him was proud, too, of how strong she had become, even stronger than he remembered her.

He got up from his chair, pulling her up into his arms. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in like he had done it countless times before the Icarus. It felt different, though, this time, and not just because she was more rigid in his arms, shaking with all the emotion no longer bottled up inside her. _He_ felt different, too. He had been feeling guilty ever since Anna’s return, and even though she had told him on more than one occasion that she wasn’t angry that he had moved on with Delenn, that she understood, he hadn’t been able to let go of that guilt until now.

Tightening his arms around her, he closed his eyes for a minute to find his inner balance again. Distracted as he was, he missed the wide grey eyes fixed on him and Anna, missed the tears welling up in them, and missed the swirl of a blue robe, quickly hurrying away from them, too.

 

\-----

 

_Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Delenn._

It was her father’s voice, conjured up from memory, that finally managed to calm her a little. She hadn’t needed to rely on it for many years, perhaps not since his death. She had only counted a few cycles when he had taught her how to deal with pain and suffering when it was threatening to swallow her whole. Back then, it had been her mother’s leaving that had distressed her so greatly. All through the passage of time, she had not forgotten his voice, or the way his hand had found its place on her forehead, soothing and grounding at the same time.

She wished he was there now, wished it so desperately it hurt, wished that he could tell her a story and she could let his voice wash over her. She wondered if he would run his fingers through her hair.

That thought brought her back to John, and how he had run _his_ fingers through her hair, just hours before his wife had returned. She had laughed, then, a laugh so full of happiness that he had joined in, not even knowing why she was laughing. She had not been sure either, but it had not mattered. For how few days it had been, that moment seemed quite distant now, as distant as her own home world, perhaps.

Delenn was tired, so tired of being pulled back and forth, of hoping one minute that he might come back to her, and knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt the next that he never would. She had never felt like this, nor had she ever behaved this way before. Even Lennier had noticed how often she was distracted, and he had taken on her own tasks more often than ever before in these past few weeks. It was not like her, and she decided it had to stop, once and for all.

She would be of no use to anyone in this state. Delenn went into her bathroom to wash the tears off her face and to prepare for her next meeting, all the while formulating a plan in her head. There was so much work to be done still, and she could not abandon the fragile alliance they had been trying to build. But she also knew there was no longer a place for her on Babylon 5. For the third time in her life, she would have to find a new home. But just like before, she would build anew, and she would endure.

 

\-----

 

“We should probably talk about what we’re going to do,” Anna said once she had calmed down and they had returned to his ( _their_ ) quarters. He wouldn’t have brought it up, not now, but if she was ready to discuss it, who was he to argue.

“Did you love him?” he asked the question that had been eating away at him for more than an hour now. He thought he already knew the answer, though, and wasn’t surprised when she answered with a simple “Yes.”

No matter how much had changed between them, at least they were still honest with each other. Honesty had always been one of the most important cornerstones of their relationship, and Sheridan was glad they hadn’t lost that part when she had disappeared.

“I know you’ve moved on, John, and I don’t want to be in your way…”

And this was the Anna he knew, too. Always thinking of others before she thought of herself, and he still loved her—would always love her—for it. Before he could even think to respond, though, a loud chirp from his hand interrupted them. He was tempted to ignore it at first, but whoever was trying to reach him was insistent, so it had to be important.

“Sheridan, go.”

“Captain, the ships have arrived,” Ivanova’s voice announced over his link. “We’re ready.”

It didn’t sound like much to an outsider, but this was what they had been waiting for, what he and Delenn and Susan had been _fighting_ for these past few weeks, ever since their successful defence of Sector 83. And now it was finally happening. He was already off the couch when he remembered he couldn’t just run off like that, not now.

“Anna,” he took her hands between his, startled for a moment by how cold they were, “I have to go.”

“It’s okay,” she said, “I’ll stay here. You do what you have to do.”

He nodded his thanks and, after one lasting glance, ducked out the door.

 

\-----

 

The War Council was in high spirits.

Sheridan hadn’t seen so many hopeful faces since well before the beginning of this war. The last time, he reflected with a wry smile, had been when the Minbari surrendered at the Line, and even that ‘victory’, as it was, hadn’t tasted as sweet as anyone had expected. Not that it had mattered then. It wouldn’t matter now either, as long as they got out of this alive.

And this was their chance.

He was in the middle of detailing to the League members what exactly he had in mind, when the doors opened behind him with a swoosh, and although he wasn’t even facing her, he knew it was Delenn who had just come in. She quietly took her place without looking at him, and he continued on. Now was not the time to dwell on this. After the big battle, though, he would make a decision, and he wouldn’t look back.

“We can defeat the Shadows, once and for all, by attacking their home world,” he continued, and assigned each League world their own part of the battle plan. Naturally, he was asked about the newly revealed White Star fleet—a question that he referred to Delenn, who, still without acknowledging him, replied they would have every single ship with them during the attack.

That got them the necessary momentum, and within minutes, the entire League had signed on. No one was under any illusions that it would be easy, but if they stood together, maybe they really could defeat the Shadows. It was a risk well worth taking.

The Council quickly disbanded, each ambassador on the way to their quarters to contact their respective government, and hopefully by tomorrow morning, they’d be good to go.

Much to Sheridan’s luck, a Brakiri had kept Delenn from leaving straight away, and he had time enough to move towards her before she started to run off.

“Delenn, wait!”

She didn’t look like she was in the mood to oblige him, but that Minbari honour thing wouldn’t let her just leave either, not when it was obvious that she must have heard him. She turned around just enough to face him.

“We need to talk.”

“There is no time. We have to prepare for the battle.”

They had prepared for a battle just like this not so long ago, too, but everything had been different then. _When we are finished with this, we will spend the night together._ For one wonderful second, his thoughts had turned decidedly carnal, but even when she had explained to him he would just be sleeping (and not _with_ her, either), he had been so happy just to know she’d be there. Sheridan put a hand on her arm, and she didn’t pull away. He counted that as a victory.

“Then later. After the battle. I really need to talk to you.”

He let his fingers glide over hers, and he knew he was being unfair, but if he gave her a chance, she would shut him out even more. There was no way he’d let that happen, not again.

Delenn nodded mutely, hanging her head a little as if she was ashamed she had agreed. There was nothing he could do right now, except try to cheer her up a little.

“Delenn, listen—“

“I have to go,” she interrupted him.

“Go where?” he asked, but when she raised her eyes to his, he wanted to retract the question. Wanted her to remain silent. Because he knew, with sudden, sickening clarity, what her answer would be.

“I will guide the White Star fleet to Z’ha’dum.”

No. Oh no. That was going to be _his_ task. _His_ part of the plan. But of course she had known that, and now she’d taken it on herself. And she obviously didn’t intend for him to come along. He wanted to protest, wanted to make sure she stayed here, where she was protected, or at least on a Minbari cruiser. He wanted so many things…

Her tone carried a deadly note of finality, though, and the hard look in her eyes told him that there was no use in arguing. Delenn had made up her mind, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. She bowed a little awkwardly, considering he still had her hand in his grip, and then she was gone.

The curse that came out of his mouth echoed in the empty room for a long time.

 

\-----

 

For the first time since the beginning of this war, Delenn had trouble concentrating on the task ahead. It wasn’t that she missed important details, let alone gave incorrect orders, but there was something in the back of her mind that, like an itch, constantly reminded her of what she had seen, and what she had lost.

Over and over, she made herself focus, wishing more than once to have been born Human—or at least Warrior Caste—, so that she might curse and swear like them, and not remain silent, stoic, as her Religious training demanded. She finally decided that, as soon as this engagement was over, she would conduct the unbinding ritual, to separate her soul and heart and destiny from John’s. Usually, the ritual was not performed until half a cycle had passed, but under special circumstances, it was permissible to do it earlier. She strongly felt that hers were special circumstances, and in performing the ritual early, she would allow her heart to rest and, more importantly, would allow John to return to his wife without the burden of still being bound to part of her own soul.

With that in mind, she found it easier to focus on the upcoming battle. They had nearly reached Z’ha’dum, and as soon as they came out of hyperspace, they would have to destroy the planetary defences—the White Stars’ first task. Only once those were taken care of would the majority of the fleet jump in to engage as many of the Shadow ships as possible, leaving enough room for a few strategically armed White Stars to fight their way to the surface—their second task. And then, if they all survived long enough, White Star 3 would deliver the final blow: a nuclear strike right into the main city. It was a simple plan, but one that greatly depended on each participant being in the right place at the right time. And on the strength of their enemy, of course, though Delenn chose not to think about that. There was no way of knowing how many ships the Shadows would have in orbit or on the planet’s surface, so there was no use fretting about it now.

As soon as the window to normal space opened before them, a different part of her took over, the part that had once been Satai, that had commanded entire armies of Minbari against Humans—if unwillingly. She spared no thought to John or Anna, nor anything else that wasn’t of immediate concern. Instead, she led a fierce assault on the surprisingly few defences in orbit. They were satellites of some kind, but for some reason, they were unable to pick up the White Stars. She silently thanked Kosh for his foresight in creating the ships the way they had.

The battle itself was a rush of weapons fire, exploding ships (both the enemies’ and theirs) and swift turns. Each step seamlessly blended with the next, and even when one White Star was destroyed, another one immediately took its place. Just like they had planned. What they hadn’t planned on were other ships, not just Shadows, standing in their way to the planet’s surface. Allies of the Shadows, most likely, though not in their bleakest projections had they expected so many of them. But at least they were nowhere near as strong as the Shadows themselves. The thought gave her hope. She directed her attention—and White Star 1—towards the Shadow ship that had just come out of hyperspace in front of her. Combining the forces of several White Stars had proven enough to destroy even a Shadow ship, as long as they kept out of its main line of fire, and kept enough telepaths at hand. They almost had this one, too, only a little longer.

That was when Z’ha’dum erupted into flames.

Later, she would find out the entire battle had taken a little less than four standard hours, but in the sudden silence, it felt like it could not have been more than ten minutes. Over. It was over.

For the length of six or seven heartbeats, Delenn was ecstatic. They had done it! Their mission was complete! And then someone behind her shouted a warning she barely heard, there was an explosion she barely felt, and everything went dark.

 

\-----

 

Aboard the Minbari cruiser, Sheridan was pacing back and forth. He was torn between elation and fear. They’d lost a lot of ships, more than ever before, but they had driven the Shadows away from their home world, if not forever, then at least for a very long time. Nothing would survive a blast like that, he thought with grim satisfaction. But the Shadows weren’t gone, no. They would regroup and attack. And what would happen then was anyone’s guess.

His link went off, startlingly loud in the quiet ship, in the calm after the storm.

“Sheridan, go!”

“Captain,” he heard Garibaldi’s tinny voice, not letting the Chief finish. He was itching to hear the details he had missed during the battle.

“How did we do?”

“We’re not done counting yet, there are still a lot of ships checking in. But we could’ve done worse.”

“We could’ve done a hell of a lot better, too,” Sheridan countered, only to be met with a few seconds of silence.

“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, though,” the Chief finally continued, and Sheridan didn’t like where this was going, nor the tone of Garibaldi’s voice. Something was wrong.

“It’s Delenn, John. Her ship… It’s gone.”


	4. Chapter Three

  
  


“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

His voice was cold, distant, and Garibaldi must have heard, because he switched from concerned friend to cool professional.

“I just talked to Ivanova; her White Star was closest to Delenn’s when it happened, but all she said was that she turned her back for a minute and Delenn’s ship was gone. Nobody else saw anything at all, everyone was so focussed on the mission. But I already have my people working on it, and Susan is dividing the fleet into groups to start looking for Delenn.”

“So you have no idea where she is?”

“No, John.”

“Then find out!” Sheridan all but yelled into his link. He moved to terminate the connection, but then remembered something. “And Garibaldi? Get one of the White Stars here immediately. I want to be in on this from the start.”

 

\-----

 

Unbeknownst to Sheridan, Susan Ivanova was informed of his reaction to the news right away. She and Garibaldi decided it would be best if _she_ went to meet Sheridan, rather than one of the Rangers. She finished up assigning everyone a new task while they were docking, and wasn’t surprised that John was through the airlock before it had even fully opened. He didn’t need to say anything, and neither did she. One glance told her everything she needed to know.

He was barely holding on.

The order was given quickly to rejoin the other White Stars, but until they reached the part of space where Delenn had disappeared, there was nothing to do but wait. Or watch Sheridan pace, as it were. He was doing it with such abandon that it was starting to make Susan dizzy, but because she knew telling him to stop would do no good, she eventually left him to his demons and made sure the White Star’s small sickbay was ready to receive any casualties. 

 

\-----

 

Delenn, for her part, was feeling dizzy for a whole other reason.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, only to be greeted by darkness occasionally broken by flashing red lights from the console in front of her. She tried to sit up, but found that she couldn’t move more than an inch or so, unless she wanted to be blinded completely by the headache that had taken root shortly above her neck. Closing her eyes again, she used her other senses to ascertain what had happened. They had obviously not returned home with the rest of the fleet. The metallic stench in the air spoke of burnt conduits, and underneath that, she was sure she could smell burnt flesh, too. It almost made her sick, so she tried to focus on sounds instead. There was no moaning, no cries of pain. But then, she knew that wasn’t something that often happened after accidents, not in space. Distantly, she heard somebody shouting, but it was almost drowned out by the screeching of ship parts scratching along the inner hull.

Eventually, when she found she still couldn’t move without causing her body agony, she turned her attention to herself. Nothing felt broken, except maybe her head. But she had had headaches almost as bad as this one before, after her change, so she didn’t think it was anything to worry about for the moment. She tasted blood, though, and that was never a good sign. It took her a minute to figure out she must have bitten the inside of her cheek at some point, and that was where the blood came from.

Inventory taken, she gave herself another moment, and then slowly but surely sat up, trying to will the pain away, and succeeding at least enough not to faint. The shouts were clearer now, and she saw that she was cut off from the rest of the ship by a wall of rubble and metal beams. Somebody must still be alive on the other side, she thought, and she started shouting for help.

 

\-----

 

In the end, Sheridan’s efforts to find Delenn weren’t actually efforts at all. Her White Star hadn’t drifted far off course after it had been hit by some Shadow ship debris, so it took them less than an hour to find it. Communications seemed to be offline, but the shuttle bay still worked, and John didn’t waste a minute in going over. Once on the other ship, he saw Susan make her way directly to some of the Rangers—he’d have to remember to thank her later. But then everything else was forgotten, because there she was.

Delenn. He saw her round a corner, a Minbari Ranger’s arm slung around her waist to keep her from falling. Her hair was matted with blood, her face covered in scratches, and her dress was in shreds. But she was alive and breathing, and more beautiful than he remembered. At that moment, he knew with absolute certainly that he couldn’t live without her. Not now, and never again.

 

\-----

 

One step in front of the other. Delenn was glad she didn’t have to focus on anything else. Sharann was keeping her upright, and with his help, she found she had enough energy left to keep walking. The Ranger had also been the one who had found her, dug her out of the rubble. And informed her of the four people they had lost in the crash—four people she would mourn later, once she returned to her quarters. For now, everything was being taken care of for her, and she thought Sharann would make a good White Star captain one day. She would have to remember that.

Her self-declared aide came to a slow stop and bowed, holding her steady long enough for somebody else to take over. It happened so quickly that Delenn didn’t even have time to prepare for the change, and then John was holding her, hands on both of her shoulders, his expression one of infinite worry with just the smallest bit of hope. That was the moment that her resolve decided to leave her, and everything came crashing in on her. The elation of knowing they had dealt the Shadows a defeat they wouldn’t soon recover from, the sadness after learning of the losses they had endured, the pain that still coursed through her body, one limb at a time, the relief at being reunited with the man she loved; it all threatened to swallow her, and it was all she could do to keep herself from sobbing. She waited for John to speak, to release her; didn’t know which she would prefer. But he did neither, just stared at her and then leant down to kiss her with such abandon that she felt her knees give out under her again. But he held her up, didn’t let her fall. She was safe now.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” he mumbled against her lips between kisses, “Don’t ever do that to me again.” And then he pulled her to him, wrapped her in his arms so fiercely she had trouble breathing. That was a kind of pain, though, that she would gladly accept any time. A stray thought of where he should be entered her mind, of his wife and how what they were doing was wrong, but she was too tired to fight her heart.

 

\-----

 

Back on Babylon 5, Anna Sheridan waited. She had been waiting for hours, more than half a day now, for any kind of news from the battle. John hadn’t been able to tell her much in terms of plans or strategy, but she knew enough to be anxious. Especially once word spread that the attack had been successful, because he still hadn’t returned, and neither had the rest of the fleet, and much of the senior security personnel on the station was, at the very least, worried.

She sat back in her chair and finished the hot chocolate she’d ordered in the little Zócalo café. A plan began to form in her mind. Nobody was telling her anything, so she’d just have to find out for herself what was going on. The docking bay wasn’t far, and she had become familiar enough with the layout of the station over the last few weeks to not get lost on the way. The picture that presented itself to her only fuelled her worry: Doctors and medics stood around empty stretchers, as obviously waiting for somebody to treat as the security officers were waiting for somebody to protect. Anna spotted Mister Garibaldi a bit further down one of the bays, but she never even had the time to ask him what was going on.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Garibaldi’s voice was firm and unapologetic. He was doing his job, and she would get in the way, is what he was trying not to say. But Anna had seen and done things in the several years she’d been missing that could provide useful.

“I can help.”

He looked as though he’d argue for a moment, but then his shoulders sagged a bit and he nodded.

“Find Doctor Franklin. He’ll tell you what to do. They should be coming in any minute now.”

 

\-----

 

The journey back to B5 went by in a blur. Later, Sheridan wouldn’t remember anything the Minbari healers said, but he would remember helping Delenn lie down so they could examine her. He wouldn’t remember the low moans of pain from the injured people around them, but he would remember every single one of the few soft whimpers coming from her. He wouldn’t remember the pallor of her skin, but he would remember the chill of her hand in his. He never once let go of her.

He had seen Delenn hurt before. He had watched her suffer through Sebastian’s torture, had feared her dead in the Markab isolation zone, had seen her take the knife that was meant for him. But during none of those times had he felt this unending _despair_ that had taken hold of him when he learned about Delenn’s disappearance. He still hadn’t shaken the feeling, had to keep looking at her and touching her to make sure she was really there.

The parallel to when he’d lost Anna did occur to him, but he didn’t feel like dwelling on that right now. What mattered to him the most was that the woman in front of him would pull through.

Delenn shifted with a soft groan that made him clench his jaw. She wasn’t really asleep, but she was dozing, and that had to be good enough for now. She needed her rest, and he knew she’d be trying to run around again the second they docked at B5. Somehow, he’d have to make sure she wouldn’t overdo it, that she would let Franklin examine her properly. Even if he had to tie her to a stretcher, he thought grimly.

Her hand wasn’t as cold anymore; he had warmed it up, and now he pressed a soft kiss against each knuckle. For the duration of a heartbeat or two, he thought about telling her how much he loved her, but decided against it. There would be time later, once she was back on her feet. Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t already know.

 

\-----

 

Anna was so focussed on separating the terminally wounded from those who could still be saved, just like Franklin had instructed her, that she didn’t even notice how much time had passed. John still hadn’t made it back, but she kept her mind firmly on the triage and distracted herself as best she could from worrying—until, suddenly, someone behind her started clapping, someone else joined in, and before she knew it, half the docking bay was in an uproar. The reason came limping from a small ship; two figures clinging to each other. Anna recognised one of them as her husband, and for a few heartbeats, she was terrified he’d been hurt, but then she saw he wasn’t the one with the limp. Delenn was curled into his side, one of John’s arms slung around her waist to help her walk.

The applause was for them, and she had to admit that even bruised and battered, they made a striking couple. The thought didn’t cause as much pain as she thought it would; it was merely a dull ache below her sternum.

For the umpteenth time since she had made it to Babylon 5, Anna thought about the pain she had caused her husband. If only she hadn’t gone with Doctor Chang, if only she had made it back sooner, if only… But for the first time, she also allowed for the possibility that maybe her disappearance—her apparent _death_ , as brutal as it sounded—had actually helped John more than they both realised. Yes, part of her had been angry when she saw how easily he had moved on, but only until she found out that it hadn’t happened ‘easily’ at all. They had both been through so much, and she couldn’t fault him for finding happiness again, not even when hers had been taken away from her so cruelly.

She also didn’t feel any hatred or anger towards the woman who had found her way into her husband’s life (and more, from the looks of it), but she marvelled at the differences between the Minbari and herself, not least of all because Anna did think of her as a Minbari rather than a Human.

The two of them were closer now. She saw John press a soft kiss to the side of Delenn’s head before steering her further, and in that instant, Anna knew her marriage was over. It didn’t come as a surprise, didn’t even hurt much. If she was honest, her marriage had ended the moment she’d stepped onto the Icarus.

From the moment they had met, John had felt like home to her. It wasn’t until this moment that she realised she hadn’t felt that around him once during her stay aboard B5. Maybe she would never feel that way again, or maybe that feeling now lay elsewhere. She had family back on Earth. Through her entire ordeal, she had never forgotten the sights, sounds and smells of the farm she’d grown up on, and she longed to experience those again just as much as she had longed to see John before her arrival here.

Maybe she was supposed to go there, maybe _that_ was supposed to be her home again.

 

\-----

 

“Anna,” Sheridan found himself saying when faced with his wife in the docking bay, not quite in surprise, but with no guilt or denial either. He made no move to distance himself from Delenn. Even if his heart hadn’t already made a choice, he wouldn’t just leave her like this, injured and nearly dead on her feet. When he had gone after Delenn, he hadn’t spared a single thought to his wife, and if anything, _that_ was what he now felt guilty about.

He spotted Lennier up ahead, face creased with anguish, and slowly guided Delenn towards him, reluctant to let go, but knowing she’d be in the best of hands. Delenn squeezed his hand for a moment, commanding his full attention, and let him know with a long glance that it was alright for him to leave, that _she_ was alright with him leaving, as long as he came back later. He watched Lennier lead her away until he could no longer see either of them, and when he turned to Anna, he was taken aback by the wistful look on her face. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was for him, for Delenn, or for someone else entirely.

“Anna,” he tried again, “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to run off like that, I just—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted him. “You did what you had to do. It’s what I’ve always loved about you.”

Her words were simple, but their meaning anything but, and they both knew it.

“Still, I’m sorry. I should’ve at least let you know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved him off with something that was too tight to be a smile.

Sheridan wanted to protest further but decided there were more important matters at hand.

“We should… probably talk, shouldn’t we?”

Anna just nodded, so he took her arm and led her towards his quarters. They didn’t say anything further on the way, but he saw her mind working, and as soon as the door swooshed shut behind them, she turned to him.

“Do you love her?”

“More than my life.”

If anything, he owed Anna the truth, and she didn’t look angry or even hurt. In fact, her expression was frighteningly neutral even as she slowly nodded her head, and Sheridan was yet again more than a little taken aback by how much she had changed. Not in every way, not in many ways, even, but the things about her that had changed had changed completely. Sometimes, he couldn’t read her at all anymore.

“So what do you want to do?” she asked, ever the pragmatist.

He was tempted to say he didn’t know, but that wasn’t fair to her. It was a lie, for one thing, and it wouldn’t help either of them come to a decision. He bought himself some time by getting them both some water, hoping the right words would somehow come to him. In the end, Anna took the initiative.

“I think I should leave.”

“Wha— Anna, no!” Sheridan’s first instinct was to protest, then to lock her up somewhere safe and throw away the key. She leaned in closer to where he sat on the couch, and put her hand on his arm, startling him a little. He thought about inching towards her, but decided against it.

“John, we both know that you’ve moved on. Hell, I’ve moved on, too! These past few weeks since I got back, it hasn’t felt the same. And yes, we could try to make it work, we could give it time, but you would probably end up hating me because I’m keeping you from being with Delenn, and I wouldn’t be happy feeling like the third wheel all the time.”

He didn’t know what to say to that because she had summed up their situation perfectly.

“Besides,” Anna added, “legally, I don’t think we’re even married anymore. I’m dead, remember?” Her attempt at a joke fell flat, not least of all because her voice broke just enough for him to notice. “But even once I’m officially back among the living, I can always sort out any paperwork that might come up from Earth.”

Sheridan didn’t know why he was so surprised. _What did you expect?_ he scolded himself. _That she’d stick around even after you’d gone and picked Delenn over her?_

“So is that what you want to do? You want to go back to Earth?”

“Yeah. I want to see my parents again, my brother...”

For half a second, she looked grief-stricken, then panicked, and he knew her too well for her to be able to hide it away.

“They were all okay last time I talked to them,” Sheridan reassured her. “I talked to your mom before my transfer to B5.”

At this, Anna’s eyes filled with tears. John didn’t hesitate this time; he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him and held her as she cried. He whispered softly into her ear, words meant to soothe and calm, endless apologies for believing her dead, for not looking for her, for moving on without her.

They held each other like that for a long time, until Anna slowly pulled away.

“It’s okay, John. We’re okay. I will always love you, but it’s time to move on.”

He couldn’t do anything but nod, and then he pulled her in for another hug.

 

\----

 

Delenn was trying to meditate herself to sleep when she heard hesitant footsteps tiptoeing towards her darkened corner of Medlab. It wasn’t John; he would be striding in, full of confidence and emotion. Ivanova would shuffle back and forth, perpetually unsure if she really wanted to be there and yet trying not to let it show. Lennier would not be heard at all until he wanted to be, a silent presence she could always rely on. And Doctor Franklin would be all business, asking how she was feeling before he even reached her side. She couldn’t imagine anyone else visiting her at this hour.

Her surprise must have shown on her face when she opened her eyes to Anna Sheridan standing little more than two steps away.

“Shh,” Anna said, “Don’t move. Franklin said you’re supposed to rest.”

It occurred to Delenn that she and Anna had never been alone together until this moment; that they really hadn’t seen much of each other at all after that first night. The other woman must have had a similar thought.

“I realised I never told you how sorry I am for barging in on you and John like I did.”

“There is no need to apologise,” came Delenn’s automatic response. “He is your husband and you had every right to see hi—”

“ _Was_ my husband,” Anna interrupted. “I’ve released him from his vows.”

Delenn couldn’t remember many times in her life that she had been left speechless, but this was certainly one of them. The implications of Anna’s words were only sinking in slowly, and to say Delenn was overwhelmed by them would have been an understatement. In her culture, there was no such thing as a divorce. She had heard of them, of course, from the Humans and the Centauri, among others, but the elaborate Minbari rituals that every couple went through before they were joined made divorce unnecessary.

“Listen, I never intended to come between you two,” Anna said when Delenn took too long to reply. “You clearly belong with him, and I don’t anymore.”

Delenn meant to protest, knew she was supposed to, but could not find it in herself to lie. She didn’t know if Anna still belonged with John, but she certainly knew she herself did.

“What will you do?” she asked instead.

For the first time ever, she saw Anna smile.

“I’m going to see my family. On Earth. And then… take it from there. One day at a time, you know?”

Delenn nodded her understanding. John had never talked about his wife much, but thanks to Kosh, she knew more about Anna than she was probably supposed to.

The two women looked at each other for a moment, neither knowing how to add to the conversation. Everything that needed to be said had been said, and Delenn wondered what else was going through her counterpart’s mind. It took another few minutes to become apparent.

“He loves you, you know?”

Delenn listened for anger or jealousy in Anna’s voice, but detected neither. Reminding herself that, after all the things Anna had been through, she might well be able to hide her true feelings, she nodded anyway.

“I know.”

She did not need to say she loved him, too.

“Good,” Anna said, and in that one word, there was something weaker than a threat but stronger than a warning, as clear as though she had said it out loud: _Don’t hurt him._

With a soft “Goodbye, Delenn” and a last glance, Anna was gone again. Delenn knew she would not be able to sleep no matter how much she mediated, but she closed her eyes anyway, a smile on her face.

 

\----

 

When Captain Sheridan came to see him late that night, Michael Garibaldi had just dug into a bowl of popcorn and hit play on an old Earth vid. The popcorn was set aside and the vid paused as soon as Michael saw the expression on Sheridan’s face.

“I need to ask a favour.” Straight to the point, just like Garibaldi liked it.

“Name it and I’ll get it done, Captain.”

For half a second, Michael thought back to the early days, when Sheridan had just come to the station to replace Jeff, and how neither of them had trusted the other. He remembered waking up to a new CO, his best friend carted off to Minbar, paranoia threatening to cost him everything. He was glad now that they had sorted it all out, and couldn’t be prouder to be working under his current Captain.

“Anna, my wife… She wants to leave.”

“Leave? The station?” He didn’t try to hide his surprise. Sure, he’d heard about Anna Sheridan and the problems she had brought aboard the station, had even felt sorry for everyone involved, but after the initial threat assessment Sheridan had made him draw up to make sure Anna was who she said she was, he hadn’t pried. Until now, Garibaldi thought they’d started getting used to each other again; that they were happy to be back together.

“Yeah. And with everything that’s been going on around here and on Earth, I don’t want to risk her getting turned back or worse. I was hoping you could ask some of your contacts for help.”

“You want to have her smuggled back to Earth?” It was the logical conclusion and, if he was honest, probably the same thing he’d be trying to do in Anna’s place.

“It’s the least I can do for her.”

That it would also be the last thing he’d ever be able to do for her wasn’t something that needed to be said. Garibaldi spend a minute in silence, thinking things over, then nodded. It wasn’t the first time he helped someone do something as dangerous and slightly insane as this.

“I’ll ask around. It might take a while, and she might have to double back a few times, change her name, dye her hair, all that jazz. But we’ll get her wherever she wants to be.”

Michael was confident. He’d managed more difficult tasks in his time, and the Captain seemed to either know about those or trust him enough not to ask questions.

“Thanks, Michael. I appreciate it,” Sheridan said and shook Garibaldi’s hand firmly.

“Don’t mention it, Captain.”

He hadn’t been able to help with the situation so far, but Michael vowed to himself he’d do anything and everything in his power to sort it out. He owed his CO and Delenn at least that much. For a moment, the smell of the popcorn next to him brought him back a few years, to another vid and another bowl of popcorn, shared with a puzzled Delenn, long before her change, long before the beginning of the war, and definitely long before this whole mess. He hadn’t exactly thought of her as a friend back then, not yet, but she’d become one now, no doubt about it. As had the Captain, and neither of them deserved to be caught in the middle of all this.

 _Yes_ , Michael thought as he turned back to his cartoon, _I’ll make sure they don’t have to worry about a thing anymore._


	5. Epilogue

  
  


_Five Months Later._

 

When he stepped into his semi-dark quarters, he wasn’t even consciously aware of grinning. But the sight of Delenn sitting on his couch, her hair lit only by the two candles on the table, must have sparked it, because it was the first thing she chose to comment on.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing,” he replied, trying not to let his smile grow even wider and failing. “I’m just happy to have you here all the time now.”

She got up to walk over to the kitchen, and John hugged her from behind, burying his nose in her hair. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy before.

“Yes, all the time,” Delenn echoed his words, and he now heard the smile in her voice, too. He looked down at their hands that were joined in front of her, looked at the matching rings that sparkled gold in the low light.

“Anna sent a message,” his wife (his _wife_ ) told him, suddenly more serious. He entangled himself from her somewhat, enough to turn her around in his arms and see her face.

“What did she say?”

“Not much, only that she is getting used to living on Earth again, being with her family again. And that she wishes us well.”

He listened carefully for doubt, uncertainty, and recriminations, but her voice was as neutral as he’d ever heard it. They’d talked about Anna many times since she’d left the station, and he was sure they’d both come to terms with it all, but part of him still worried. Probably always would. A few seconds of silence later, she was smiling at him, that smile that made his heart soar and his toes curl deliciously. He bent down to kiss her, but stopped himself half a second before their lips met.

“I’ll have to send her a reply.”

Then he finally lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her with everything he had in him. It was a long while before they came up for air, and when they did, she had already dragged him halfway to his—now _their_ —bedroom.

“Later,” was the only word she muttered, and then pulled him into another kiss.

Yes. Much, much later.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks go to Shannon for beta-reading, Sara for canon advice and search-engine skills, Sam for cheerleading, and everyone else I may have forgotten. I'm so glad to have this monster of a fic finished, even if it was a blast to write.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for "What Is Past"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/934619) by [Gryph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryph/pseuds/Gryph)




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